


Goddammit, I Should Go

by MsLanna



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, guest appearances of no importance, whisky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-04-27 04:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5033764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLanna/pseuds/MsLanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The paragon of Humanity and the revenge-driven mercenary. A match made in heaven, probably by Blind Io. It takes both sides some time to admit what is going on. And a lot of whisky will be annihilated before they do. </p><p>Rated Mature because of the sex scene that is chapter 13.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> I will keep to one PoV per chapter after this one. I promise.

Even though Cerberus had finalised the deal already, Shepard had not thought the mercenary would be one of the first people they ran into on Omega. But there he was, casually beating up a batarian.  
  
A feat the target seemed to warrant by simply opening their mouth.  
  
“You Zaeed Massani?” It wasn't the most indigenous line of all, but it distracted the mercenary from kicking the batarian.  
  
“Yeah, that's me. You must be Commander Shepard. I hear we have a galaxy to save.”  
  
It was not easy to wrap your mind around what could make a merc like Massani want to save the galaxy. Apart from the fact he wanted to make a lot of credits with it. A suspicion he confirmed promptly.  
  
“That's the long and she short of it.” He didn't seem the least bit troubled.  
  
Shepard wondered how much money the Illusive Man had moved. And how much Massani really knew about the mission. Impossible? Yes, but they had both done that before. This time, it would be a little more difficult than usual, though.  
  
Still, he did have quite the reputation and that didn't come from nowhere. And seeing how easy he was to annoy, his astronomical alive rates made sense.  His target tried to escape when the thought Massani was paying full attention to her, explaining his standing contract. Massani just shot the running prisoner in the leg.  
  
Not the type she would have chosen. But further evaluation would have to wait until she had seen him in action. And then there was that contract to take care off. Another distraction she didn't need. Maybe she could postpone it until everybody had forgotten about it. Though Massani did not look like somebody who forgot.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Zaeed was not impressed. If that woman was humanity's last hope, they were all going to fucking die. Admittedly, she came geared up nicely, but mostly it was standard military kit. That didn't even make a dent against most mercenaries and he had to know.  
  
Squeamish, too. Judging by how she looked at the beat prisoner. The galaxy was going to hell. But that was not his problem. That was the problem of Commander Paragon Shepard. Saving the Council and Citadel must have been her lucky day.  
  
She didn't come alone, either. Black muscle on the one side and a woman that was probably working at the enemies' minds at another angle considering her neckline. But it was long since he had let a pretty figure or face get to his head. Bodies were a dozen a dime. And most minds were no better.  
  
Regardless of what Shepard thought, she kept that to herself, even in her face. Goddamned straight face of smiles to welcome him abroad. Didn't even fall a lick when he mentioned his arrangement.  
  
“I guess he decided to leave that information out of the dossier.” Hell knew if she didn't care or if the Illusive Man could expect a knee in the groin the next time they met. Could go both ways. From his information Shepard was as big on forgiveness as she was on intel.  
  
“You heard the name Vido Santiago?” Zaeed decided to feed her just enough about the contract to be able to claim he had been open from the start. “Seems he recently captured an Eldfell-Ashland refinery on Zorya and is using their workers for slave labour. The company wants it dealt with.”  
  
She did not ask how a company could afford his fees. Or what was so important about the refinery on Zorya that his fees were acceptable. Good. Not his problem. That one was a bargain. For both sides.  
  
And she had agreed to get it done. They'd see how and if that one worked out. Especially when she realised he was not about freeing the refinery at all.


	2. Guns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recruitment Mission of Mordin Solus

Massani was no charmer, but man, that guy could shoot. Shepard had decided to take him on a test run acquiring the next member of her team, doctor Mordin Solus. The good doctor had holed up in a quarantined district which additionally hosted a gang war. But whatever. Getting down into the area was not a problem. Getting to the hospital might, not to mention getting out if they couldn't find a cure to that damned plague.  
  
Trouble did not wait long before finding them, but it could have been worse. She had taken Jacob as back up as well. She was rather fond of his biotic pull. Not that she really needed it with Massani around. He was fast with his guns, precise. And he could shoot. Man, could that guy shoot. Shepard caught herself watching the outstanding performance of the mercenary instead of firing herself a few times. It was distracting. It was embarrassing. And she was sure he had noticed.  
  
But what could she do? He was taking down Blue Suns and vorcha as if they were made of cardboard. He was definitely an asset. All she had to do was make sure that the moral calls were hers to make.  
  
As it turned out, they were and uncontested. Shepard felt almost bad about it. It was not that she was going out of her way to do the right thing, she just made a point of it. Helping the sick batarian was the right thing to do. That it was also testing Massani's acceptance of her way of doing things was only an added bonus. Still, it did feel like cheating in a complicated way.  
  
But Massani accepted that those were her calls. He was visibly unhappy about letting the looters go, but he said nothing, did nothing Good. This might just work out.  
  
Mordin was not what Shepard had expected. The the right horn of the salarian was capped and he talked even faster than other salarians she had met so far.  
  
“Relax, Mordin. I'm Commander Shepard and I came here to find you.” It was difficult to get even those few words in. But the doctor slowed down a little after that. And he seemed interested enough in helping them. In general.  
  
“Our goals maybe similar,” Mordin mused before launching another verbal avalanche. “But must stop plague first. Already have a cure. Need to distribute it at environmental control centre. Vorcha guarding it. Need to kill them.”  
  
Now that was something they could do. But she had no sooner offered when the environmental systems shut down. Now the vorcha had a real problem.  
  
“Here. Take plague cure,” Mordin accepted her help. “Also, bonus in good faith. Weapon from dead Blue Suns mercs. May come in handy against vorcha. One more thing. Daniel. One of my assistants. Went into vorcha territory. Looking for victims. Hasn't come back.”  
  
“I'll keep an eye out.” Shepard tried to glance at Massani and Mordin at the same time. Not that she needed more proof. And if the mercenary's patience ran dry at some point due to going out of their way too much to do good deeds, well, she'd find out when that happened. If.  
  
“Let's head for the environmental plant.” Shepard gestured Jacob and Massani towards the exit. This better be fast. She liked breathing as much like the next person.  
  
Opposition was thicker the closer they got to the environmental plant. Snipers and rocket launchers added to the motley mix of armoured enemies. But she had a grip on herself now and they did not have time for finesse.  
  
A raving vorcha greeting them at the environmental plant and fell victim to their hurry. Even if he was talking about the Collectors being behind this. One mention was enough to convince her. Also, the vorcha's grasp of rhetoric was lacking.  
  
Of course, powering the system back up was only the first step. They still had to insert the cure into the system through the fans. And of course the fans were at the opposite ends of the room. And of course the vorcha had no plan of giving up even now.  
  
But they were actually working like a team already. Jacob lifting the targets from cover for Zaeed who shot them out of their misery with his sniper rifle while she incinerated the krogan helpers, finishing them off with a few shots while they were unable to regenerate. The flame-throwers were a nuisance, but fighting fire with fire, they were done for quickly as well.  
  
The way back to the hospital was a walk in the park. Shepard felt the adrenaline start to ebb off, the maniac grin on her face slipping. But they had done it. And Mordin agreed to accompany them back to the ship. One dossier down, three to go. And she would sure as hell take Massani along again if there was a high probability of having to shoot lots of things.


	3. Teamwork

Shepard was as crazy as her reputation suggested. Walking right down into the quarantine zone with no actual plan except to get that doctor and out again. At least humans were immune to the disease. It would have been interesting to see if any turian or batarian would have been willing to follow her down there.  
  
And she was doing goddamned good left and right. As if being caught down there wasn't bad enough. The talking was getting on his nerves. It started right at the entrance where she sweet-talked the guard into letting them in, continued with a sick batarian which she not only healed some, but also promised to send help. She stopped looters without shedding a single drop of blood. Not to mention let the mercs go unharmed that had held Mordin's assistant.  
  
The interludes where they killed bands of Blue Sun mercenaries and vorcha were a welcome change. She knew how to set people on fire. Saved her many a shot. If she remembered to fire. He had found her watching him. Goddamned watching him instead of firing her own weapon.  
  
Something that she gratefully seemed to have gotten over for this mission. Recruiting Archangel was a fucking crazy idea. That guy had been keeping Omega busy for months now. Not that Zaeed minded. The turian was going through a lot of mercenaries, bad mercenaries. That kept the profession clean. Plus he took out a lot of Blue Suns. That was always appreciated.  
  
And that Arc Projector Shepard used was a beast of beauty. I went through the enemies like the proverbial hot knife through butter. And the black muscle, whose name was Jacob to be honest about it, was a lot more than that. Biotic. And a real joy to work with.  
  
There was a certain charm to having your opponents float up into the air from behind their cover where you could then easily pick them apart. Shepard would now and then incinerate enemies where they crouched; the anguished screams didn't seem to bother her the least.  
  
She enjoyed this. That was something he hadn’t expected. It wasn't really the killing which would have surprised him. But the thrill, the danger, and seeing how they worked together like a well-calibrated weapon. It put a fire in her eye that was not standing back behind the one she laid down on their opponents.  
  
The goddamn woman got off on teamwork.  
  
And as much as he hated to admit it, it was fun. The team worked excellently and not having to flank enemies saved a lot of time. Zaeed perforated another floating victim of Jacob's biotic pull. All too easy.  
  
It was on their way into the stronghold, that Zaeed got to see the nasty side of his new commander. She had no qualms reprogramming a YMIR mech to attack the mercenaries. Good thinking. But when they found Sergeant Cathka repairing a gunship, she stabbed him in the back. Just like that. Didn't even bat an eye. Might have a good head on her shoulders after all. Didn't mean she wasn't crazy. Because she damned well was.  
  
Still, they took out the infiltration team without problem and went into Archangel’s stronghold. The turain was busy taking out a few more mercs. But when Shepard accosted him, he put down the rifle and took off the helmet.  
  
And fuck you expect? Shepard threw her arms wide, calling him Garrus. And the turian was as happy as a clam to see her, too. It was disquieting to see how easily the two slipped back into implicit trust. Not to mention that Garrus was as crazy as Shepard was, ready to just shoot his way out of the mess.  
  
Apropos, Shepard taking down another unsuspecting merc because the opportunity offered itself. Did she get her paragon reputation because nobody knowing otherwise ever survived the encounter with her? Goddammit.  
  
Maybe not, Zaeed mused when she ordered Jacob to stay with Garrus while they went to close the shutters in the tunnels. She took care of her own. It was a little scary how fast and irrevocable she made you one of her own. But with her at your back you could calmly concentrate on anything moving before your sight.  
  
And she was not invincible, let alone infallible. Anybody handling a flame-thrower was scorching her brows off if you let them. Not that Zaeed did. Not that he admitted to himself to actually feel protective of his new commander. You just didn't torch his superior officer. And if you tired, you better be good at living with a bullet hole in your head.  
  
“Thanks.” She brushed soot off her armour.  
  
“You're welcome.” He hoisted his sniper rifle. “Thought that even if you like it hot, that was a bit much.”  
  
“You got that right.” She took the lead back up to the balcony. The last mercenary group had decided to make their push now. “Damn fine shot, too. Meant to tell you before.”  
  
“Figured.” He gave her a pointed look.  
  
“Sorry, not very sorry. Damn fine sight. Marksmanship at its best.” She grinned. “Pleasure to watch.”  
  
“Not what I get paid for,” he growled.  
  
“Want a bonus for it?” Shepard chuckled. “I am sure that can be arranged.”  
  
“Watch it, Commander.”  
  
“But I already am.” That woman was too goddamned  mirthful for the situation.  
  
As soon as they sighted the first Blue Suns, her laughter stopped, turning into a rain of fire and bullets. It was hard to complain. Especially when now her sudden killing of Cathka paid off. The gunship was not perfectly functional and it burnt like everything else. Too bad it only burnt after taking out Archangel, Garrus, whatever, that turian.  
  
The moment the gunship was down Shepard was at his side, asking him to hang in there and assuring him that they'd get him out alive. Not that he thought she was right about that. The turian had taken quite a hit to the head. But Shepard ignored him, when Zaeed pointed that out. Hopeless do-gooder and optimist. Just his goddamned luck.


	4. Downward Spiral

It was a slow descent but in the end, Shepard had to accept her downfall. Massani was perfect back-up. Recruiting Mordin had been a test run, taking Zaeed along when she went after Archangel was only prudent because he knew about mercenaries better than anybody else on the team. And Mordin was better deployed finding something to help against the Seeker Swarms.  
  
And Massani looked uncannily happy taking out Blue Suns, so taking him along to recruit Jack - oh damned, who was she even trying to fool? She liked working with him. Plain and simple. She had a weakness for efficiency. Even if his ethics were clashing with hers, he was a man who got the job done.  
  
Plus, debriefings. Shepard liked to go around on the ship, listening to her crew's concerns and assessments. Mordin was a treasure trove. His quick mind was leaping too fast even for her to follow, which was a joy and a very welcome change. Garrus was spending too much time calibrating everything that didn't run away. His technobabble was unrivalled even by engineer Donnelly.  
  
And then there was Massani. He gave limited input on the missions, keeping any misgivings to himself. Instead, or to distract himself he was recounting old missions. On her first visit, she had taken the time to enquire about the keepsakes. And one day she would get more details about the end of that turian frigate, the Verrikan.  
  
And how he had gotten Jessie. Shepard had been taken aback by how passionate the mercenary was about that retired rifle. Half of the time, it was lying on a table, half assembled midway through maintenance. Waxing nostalgic he called it. And to her own embarrassment, she had to admit that she liked listening to him ramble.  
  
The stories were not personal per se, but put together they did turn into some kind of tapestry of the mercenary's life. Not that he spoke much about the time before he specialised in impossible missions or even how he became a mercenary in first place. Shepard had to admit that she was curious.   
  
Maybe that was one of the reasons she kept coming back, the hope that one day he'd slip something more personal, something that was actually about him.  
  
“Jack, Subject Zero, whatever you call her, hell of a girl,” he began. “Could have used a destructive little bitch like that ten years ago when we dropped blind into the krogan DMZ. Took out a lot of krogan that day but we lost way too many men.”  
  
Shepard leant against the nearest crate. “You didn't have biotics with you on the mission?” She finally asked when Zaeed didn't go on.  
  
“The hell we did,” he went on after a short pause. “Our customer thought we'd do just dandy with incendiary ammo. Burning a charging krogan is only solving half the problem, though. The other half being putting out the flames on yourself afterwards.”  
  
“You can practice with Okeer once we get him on the team,” Shepard grinned. “But please don't set my ship on fire.”  
  
“Why not?” He wanted know. “A far as I can see, it is the only thing not on fire around here.”  
  
“Well.” She was tempted to pull herself up on the crate and dangle her legs. Damned. “I'd like to keep it that way, if it's okay with you.”  
  
“Should I worry that you ask me nicely?” Zaeed scratched his neck.  
  
“No. You would have to worry if I didn't. But you'd notice that I was not being nice by my fist stuck in your face.” Dammit. She really needed to calm down. Though. Was it that bad to like him? A certain amount of bonding among the team was not only suffered but encouraged for the cohesiveness and improved efficiency.  
  
Not that they needed it. Recruiting Jack had been another walk in the park. Admittedly, a violent park full of fire and flying limbs. That only left Okeer on her list of recruits. Shepard was a little worried about how to proceed from there. But first they had to get that krogan warlord on board. Something to keep her mind occupied.  
  
“I think I will worry anyway,” Zaeed said into her musings.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“That smile of yours? If that doesn't spell trouble, I'm not the best goddamned mercenary in the Terminus systems.”  
  
“Maybe you are not,” Shepard grinned. “Garrus has made quite a name for himself.”  
  
“He was a vigilante,” Zaeed objected. “A very different category. He'd make a lousy mercenary, too. Too many morals still sticking around.”  
  
It was an assessment that surprised Shepard. Garrus had struck her as even more ruthless than when she had met him. Two years were a long time. And what had Zaeed to think about her moral stance? Better not to dwell on it. She searched his face that gave nothing away. Those scars did a great job of obscuring facial expressions.  
  
“Unlike you, who has shed all traces of ethics,” she finally said. It had seemed better than the silence inside her head. Out of her mouth the words were not as convincing.  
  
“Oh, I know good from bad, Shepard,” Zaeed leant back against the bulkhead. “But I can work ignoring that perfectly fine. It's not my judgement call to make. I am not paid for that kind of shit. I am paid to do a job. And you can bet your sorry arse that I get it done.”  
  
“That you do.” Shepard ran out of things to say without casting herself into uncomfortable territory or even hell. On the other hand she didn't want to leave yet. There had to be a way to scrounge another story out of Zaeed. She suppressed the urge to bit her lip.  
  
“Had that mission once, ugly business,” Zaeed helped her out. “I was hired by a batarian syndicate boss...”  
  
Shepard relaxed against the crate, the difficult topics avoided successfully for now. It was too late to reign in her raging smile though. Oh well, one step at a time.


	5. Stories

He should have kept his goddamn mouth shut in Afterlife. But being in that kind of bar had brought memories back, a lot of memories. Most of them unsuited for any kind of company. But it was not often that somebody actually listened. Shepard did and with interest.  
  
And now this.  
  
She came to visit him regularly, almost as far away from her own room as you could get. The first time she had looked around with great interest at his keepsakes. And she had asked about them. Goddamned nosey woman.  
  
But she had listened. She had asked follow-up questions. She had not touched Jessie or anything, actually. Had only raised a brow at his surveillance system of the Normandy. It was a great ship once you learnt to ignore the AI. It even had a name. Who went around giving AIs a name?  
  
“Not me.” Shepard had crossed her arms before her. She did that often. “It was pre-installed on the ship when I got it.”  
  
It made him suspicious and it better made her suspicious as well. Even if EDI was useful at times. A pre-installed AI could be programmed to do anything. So he had his own system up and running. Better safe than sorry.  
  
Shepard never mentioned it. Not that first time she had come around nor any other visit she paid him. Maybe he should feel more flattered. The fucking paragon of humanity visiting him to hear some more of his stories. Zaeed was certain that by now he had told her every goddamned story he remembered and then some. If she had noticed, she didn't seem to mind.  
  
He felt like her uncle and that was doubly wrong. Firstly, he was not to feel anything about her. Not a single thing. And secondly 'uncle' implied a degree of protection. And she didn't need that. Hell, didn't she need that. That woman had shot her way out of a high security prison. She had killed a Thresher Maw on foot. If anybody was in need of protection, it was the Reapers.  
  
What worried him was the trust. If you were on Shepard's team, that was that. No questions asked. You were part of her team. End of discussion.  
  
Probably more worrisome was that it worked. She was a hopeless do-gooder, leaving openings for later revenge left and right, front and behind. But it worked for her. And it rubbed off. Jacob looked at her with little stars in the eyes. Archangel, avenger of Omega and vigilante without equal, turned back into Garrus Vakarian, loyal friend and follower after one look at her.  
  
Zaeed was just glad he was too old to fall for this.  
Old. That was another bastion her retreated to. He was way older than her. If not actually in years then definitely in experience. He had twenty years of chasing revenge and fighting his way through the galaxy on her.  
  
Admittedly, she had died, but hadn't he, when Vido had put that gun to his face? Overall that evened out. In moments like that, he pulled the label of uncle close and hang on to it. It was better than the alternatives presenting themselves.                
  
And talking about alternatives, Shepard was definitely off better with any of those. That woman knew how to inspire love, loyalty, commitment. He'd happily retreat to the last of these, maybe a sprinkle of loyalty. She deserved that much.  
  
Before Zaeed really start to think about what Shepard actually deserved, she arrived once more, taking up position against the nearest crate. By now there were always knives positioned on it carefully. The day she actually hopped on there and dangled her legs – he had no idea what he'd do. Probably nothing. Would serve him right.  
  
“Back for another lesson?” The condescending approach hadn't worked. Zaeed wondered how suspicious it would be to give it up once that was clear. And it gave him something to say.  
  
“What have you got?” She leant back, undermining her challenging pose with a grin.  
  
If only she knew. “Get a knife stuck in the right way and you can pull that plate right off a krogan's head.” Now that was probably not the best of all stories. Shepard was attached to Grunt who was on board instead of Okeer. Not that he objected, the tank-bred kid was a lot easier to control.  
  
“Its the best way to get a krogan to talk. The threat of it drives them mad.” He watched as Shepard got comfortable against the crate. Well, he'd just tell her how he gained that bit of wisdom and then see she'd get out again. It was easier to watch her in action, when her mind was on something else, not to mention those eyes.


	6. Jessie

She was definitely going through his stories faster than he could make them up. At least some of them sounded rather far-fetched to Shepard. But Zaeed was adamant they were all true. Still he was trying to put a stop to these sessions sooner or later, usually by telling her that he should let her go.  
  
Well, maybe he should. Maybe he shouldn't. That he didn't tell her to leave outright was a hopeful sign. And it didn't take Shepard long to find a way to outmanoeuvre the half-hearted goodbye.   
  
“Hey, don’t touch. That rifle’s older than you are. I call her Jessie, that’s my lucky charm.” That was how it started. And no matter what he had said, stopping by Jessie always got her at least one more story. Pathetic, if you thought about it.  
  
But worth it. There was a softness to Zaeed's voice when he spoke about Jessie. It brought a smile on her face. At least at those times when she didn't remember to hide it. He loved that rifle and no mistaking.  
  
“She's been through more damage than me, Jessie has,” Zaeed, let his fingers run along upper the barrel. “Had to put her back in shape more times than I can count.”  
  
“She looks good,” Shepard replied.  
  
“She does.” The pride in his voice was unmistakeable. “Took goddamned good care of her, I did. Here,” Zaeed took her hand and actually put her index finger down just above the magazine housing. “Feel that?”  
  
Shepard nodded. There was a tiny notch. It was difficult to feel, especially with the palm of the mercenary burning against her skin. Tempted as she was to arch her had upwards into the touch, she resisted.   
  
“All that's left after I had to put her back together from scrap. Goddamned batarian slave trader. Had him cornered and he knew he was going down. Wouldn't give up though, kept laying down fire on us like there was no tomorrow. True, too. For him.”  
  
Zaeed's hand pressed down gently on the decommissioned rifle, Shepard's hand caught in between completely forgotten. “Saved my life that day, Jessie did. The shot hit her, blasted her apart in my  hands, but I was still standing. Gutted the bastard with my omniblade after that. Had to pick her up from all over the place. But she's worth it.”  
  
“It's a tiny mark for such a history.” Shepard looked down onto their hands on the assault rifle.  
  
Zaeed follower her eyes and snatched his hand back. Then he took a step backwards and crossed his arms before him. “Yeah, small scars can hide big damage. But she saved me and I took care of her.”  
  
Slowly Shepard removed her hand as well. Hearing Zaeed talk like that was ambiguous in a way that was not warranted.  
  
Whatever she was doing was not saving him. Hell, how did one even save a hard-assed mercenary with no remorse? You didn't. It wasn't her job for sure, tempting as it was. Shepard put a hand to her cheek. Not overly warm, good.  
  
“Yeah, I bet that hides quite a lot of damage, too,” Zaeed took the hint but ran, thankfully, in a totally unrelated direction.  
  
“From what they tell me, there was less left of me than of your Jessie.” Shepard smiled in the direction of the weapon. “And it took longer to puzzle me back together, too."  
  
“I am not surprised. You are likely more complex than Jessie." Zaeed replied deadpan. “And they didn't hire me to do it.”  
  
Shepard blinked before breaking into laughter. Zaeed joined her. “Yeah, sure. That's why I have more scars to show, too.”  
  
“I can't say for sure without closer inspection,” Zaeed said. “But your face is healing beautifully.”  
  
“Thanks.” She rubbed her cheek absently. This would be the perfect moment to go. Before she tempted another tell-tale pitfall. She could count herself lucky, that Zaeed didn't take any of it serious and laughed it off.


	7. Horizon

He hadn't seen Shepard that distraught before. Zaeed was aware that his emotions were moving on very thin ice here, but it was hard to see his Commander like that. His reasons were his own and he would find some more if asked. If.  
  
Pacing in his room in the cargo bay definitely didn't count as fretting. The mission on Horizon had been tough. The Collectors were stepping up their game and if he never had to face another Praetorian again, he would die a happy man.  
  
Seeing the colonists frozen like that had been creepy as hell, too. And then Alenko. Not creepy, but unreasonably harsh on Shepard. Even if he had been not biased in Shepard's favour, which Zaeed had to admit he was, there was no need to be that harsh. She had spent two years in a coma on an operating table. Who could hold that against her?  
  
Well, Zaeed did have an idea who might, but. Zaeed stopped in mid-stride. It was not his place to think about that kind of person in Shepard’s life. And neither Alenko nor Shepard had admitted or denied anything. He needed to calm down and clear his mind. Three rounds of throwing knives later, he felt better. It also helped pass the time. Shepard was either taking very long making her rounds or she had holed up. He couldn't blame her for either.  
  
When she finally breezed in, it was a very soft breeze, no comparison to her usual whirlwind. He spared her the pleasantries and cut directly to the chase. “Though mission on Horizon.” If she needed to talk about it, he'd give her that opening.  
  
She did, but hell, it took her ages to take the roundabout route. If she hadn't been Shepard, Zaeed would have ended the conversation so many times. But she was hurting, he could see that much. And he didn't like it.  
  
“Was he a friend?”  
  
Shepard shrugged. “We worked together from the start, right from Eden Prime. But, yeah, I guess a friend. Though I had hoped,” she hesitated.  
  
"Hoped what?” He didn't like the implications. But it wasn't his place to like anything, certainly not where her private life was concerned.  
  
Her arms slipped a little further around her torso. “That he'd, that we'd.” She stopped heaving a sigh. “I had just hoped he'd trust me. Trust me more. Believe me. About Cerberus. We were friends, Zaeed.”  
  
“That's a difficult distinction about Cerberus make even from where I stand,” Zaeed replied, jumping at the first thing to hide a relief he had no right to.  
  
She glared at him but there was not real power behind it. “Cerberus gives me access to the resources I need. Nobody else will. You have heard the council. And I need to stop the Reapers. Nobody else will. So I'll take it.”  
  
At least her mind was on a different subject now. Though he would never get why she was convinced it was her responsibility to stop the Reapers. Hopeless do-gooder. It was bloody irritating. “You can't really blame him from the history you had with Cerberus. Not from what you told me.”  
  
“I know.” Something inside of her snapped and her arms flew out in gesticulation. “I know, alright? I know! And I don't like it. And I don't trust them. But what can I do? Nothing? Even the Alliance is turning a blind eye in loyalty to the council. What are my alternatives?”  
  
“Whoa there, Shepard. You don't have to convince me, goddammit. I don't even care.” He didn't. She was doing her thing, he would follow. That was good enough for him. Cerberus had paid in advance. They could kiss his wrinkled arse.  
  
“But do you think I work for Cerberus?” Her finger bounced off his chest plate.  
  
“I don't care,” he repeated. “They paid me, so who am I to judge?”  
  
Her hand dropped and all fight seemed to drain from her. “I forgot. You don't care.”  
  
That was not the way Zaeed had meant it. He wished he knew a way to tell her, a way that she could believe without giving away himself, without putting that pressure on her now when she needed it the least.  
  
Yes, she was a goddamned paragon and her actions made that more clear than anything. But.  
  
It had taken him some time to find the pattern, but once you saw it, it was glaringly obvious. Shepard made exceptions for her team. Zaeed did not label them 'the ones she loved'. He did not dare.  
  
But it was true. She consistently took him along to take out any Blue Suns that had the misfortune to butt heads with Cerberus. She probably knew how much satisfaction he drew from taking down those bastards.   
  
And then there was Garrus, former archangel. He had his own gripe to grapple with. And once more Shepard stepped back. She could easily have prevented the turian from shooting Hendricks, even if it hadn't been lethal. She hadn’t.  
  
She could easily have warned Sidonis about his impeding death. She hadn't. Instead she had stepped aside nonchalantly, letting Garrus lay his demons to rest. Paragon or no. She was willing to take one for the team any time. And when she said it was your shot, it was. Proof in case, Mordin. They could have let Maelon go, Shepard had done that often enough. But she had told Mordin that it was his shot and thus it had been. Literally.  
  
It shouldn't make her more endearing. He shouldn't be able to draw an accurate spectrum of how much she cared drawing from how much she let slip. Jack had gotten her revenge. She hadn't gotten to shoot that madman trying to rebuild the facility.   
  
And here she was, bloody paragon of his life, defeated and deflated by one friend from her past who didn't understand her reasons. When those were damned good reasons in Zaeed's book. And he worked with her. He'd vouch for her impeccable character and loyalty to what was right and good without a second though. Everybody who knew her, knew.  
  
“He is wrong, though,” Zaeed finally said. “You are doing what needs to be done. Even if you have to ally yourself with Cerberus. You are still the person he knew. Can't imagine what makes him too blind to see that.”  
  
Shepard sighed and would have slumped further had that been possible. “How would you know?”  
  
“Do you think I don't do my research?” He challenged. “And I had a few words with Garrus and Miranda. That was enlightening if not pleasant.”  
  
He could see her being slightly taken aback and amused at the idea of him drilling Miranda for information about her. Good. “You are as much yourself as anybody can claim after two years. Look at Alenko, he didn't stay 100% the same, now, did he? And nobody accuses him of having been brainwashed or anything.”  
  
“True.” Shepard didn't want to buy it. That was fine.  
  
“Shepard.” The way she looked at him made him bite his tongue and watch his tone. “You are still a hopeless do-gooder and terrible traitor, even a temporary one. I will testify that to anybody.”  
  
“Because you have seen me in action?” She raised a brow, baiting him.  
  
But that was alright. He had been working towards that. “I'm glad you asked. Because I happen to have a lot of experience with traitors. Only one example. I was hired by an asari once, ran a smuggling ring operating out of the Terminus Systems.”  
  
He watched her relax. It would not take her mind completely off the issue, but it would help. And then she carefully moved away the knives on the care beside him, hoisted herself up and dangled her legs as she listened to him ramble. As he had predicted, he did absolutely nothing. As he had expected, it hurt.  
  
But he finished his story and told her another one and didn't send her away until she was smiling again, bouncing her heels against the crate. She deserved better. Better than having her heart broken by that Alliance idiot. But better than what he could offer, too.  But goddammit if he didn't do his best to make her happy anyway.


	8. Zorya

It started out as a mission like any other. She had promised Zaeed to help him fulfil that contract and there were worse ways to spend your time than liberating a refinery occupied by mercenaries. Zaeed seemed to have an extra axe to grind with the Blue Suns. Probably not surprising he'd be willing to do this for an affordable rate.  
  
She had brought Jacob along again. The three of them were approaching a state in which they might as well be sleep-fighting. Working together came that easily. It was exhilarating. And freeing the refinery had sounded like a job for soldiers. And it had been, right up to when it wasn't.  
  
Vido Santiago, the leader of the Blue Suns himself was with the occupation force. It should not have made that much for a difference, but when Zaeed heard that name, he became a different man. There was no stopping him. But now his goal was a very different one. Vido.  
  
"I get the feeling you have a past with this Vido." Of course Shepard had to ask. Hate like that didn't grow from nothing.  
  
“I knew he was a sadistic bastard back when we started the Blue Suns,” Zaeed explained. “The Suns only got meaner after his little coup twenty years ago. So yeah, we have a past.”  
  
Apart from chasing after Vido for the last twenty years which had never even once come up in his stories, neither had the Blue Suns. Not founding them, not working for them, no nothing. Why would he keep that a secret?   
  
“Why didn't anybody tell me you founded the Blue Suns?” Shepard tried to keep talking while calming down inside. Why had he never said a single word about it? This had been a revenge trip fro the start. Why not just tell her? It left a sour taste in her mouth. And not because he wanted revenge for what had been done to him. Shepard could understand that well enough. The bitterness came from the deception, passing it off as a contract, work, nothing personal.   
  
She was disappointed with herself. That she should let revenge pass so easily, but not lies from him to her. People calling her a paragon had it wrong. She was not. Not when her crew was concerned. The ethics were muddled, but she got by on it. Crew first, moral second and only if possible, combine both.  
  
She could have stopped Garrus from shooting Harkin in the leg but hadn't. She had stopped Jack from killing Aresh on Pragia, though. Had she even a line drawn any longer? Was it bad to be that invested in her team? Was it bad to trust them and allow them to make the choices that were right for them?  
  
And Zaeed was determined to take Vido down. Now. Forever. So Vido it was. And freeing the refinery would be a nice side effect. Paragon indeed. She listened to Zaeed recounting the whole back-story, which incidentally also explained his scars. He had never spoken about them. Shepard wondered why she had never asked about them. She had asked about the tattoos. She also wondered if she would have gotten a truthful reply.  “We'd better get moving.”  
  
Santiago had ordered his men to the southern gatehouse, a structure they came upon not much later. Shepard had expected a last ambush before they reached it, but nothing. He either planned something inside, or had pulled his men back to more defensible positions. Maybe both, they would find out.  
  
When they walked into the guardhouse, they found Vido strutting around on a walkway, flanked by flunkies, from where he started to taunt Zaeed. A very bad choice indeed.   
  
"Actually, take your shot," Vido challenged. "Give my men a reason to put you down like the mad dog you are. Again.”  
  
And Zaeed did take the shot. And missed. That was not like him. Shepard had seen the mercenary in action and the only reason he missed was being shot at from three sides. Still, he didn't look as if anything amiss.  
  
“Burn, you son of a bitch.” Zaeed took another shot, igniting the gas that had been streaming from the hole his last bullet had punched into one of the pipes. Shepard had wondered how the old mercenary could miss Vido from this close up. Not that she was keen on starting a fire fight so far away from cover.   
  
But not enough with that. Zaeed was now hammering at one of the valves until it broke, setting the whole refinery on fire as the gas in the pipes ignited with a tremendous explosion.  
  
"Opening the gate," Zaeed replied to her questions what he was doing. And say what you wanted about his methods, the gate into the refinery was indeed open.  
  
"Warn me the next time," Shepard snapped. Though he didn't have good reason to do so. She was igniting things all the time without warning anybody first. Zaeed's derisive snort proved that his assessment was similar.  
  
They stormed off. Vido didn't need a bigger lead than he already had. He threw more of his men at them, but those barely slowed them down. He'd have to do better than that.  
  
But Vido was not stupid and also not out of the loop. He knew Zaeed was not on his own and knew the company he travelled in, Shepard, paragon of humanity. As the fires spread through the refinery, Shepard felt like a weakness for the first time in a long while. The whole compound was breaking apart around the, giving in under the relentless fire.  
  
And there were still people in there. She knew. Vido knew. Vido knew she knew. And making use of that was so easy. This was his turf, his advantage.   
  
“Help, we're trapped!” A man on a walkway shouted in panic behind them. He knew he was lost without help. She knew it too. Vido knew. And Zaeed. Shepard threw a glance in his direction. Zaeed didn't care. He had started the fire with another intent, but that hadn’t worked out. So what. He could still get Vido.  
  
But they both knew they couldn't do both. If she decided to save the workers, Vido would be long gone. And she had promised. And he was Zaeed Massani, he did not forget, he did not forgive. Hell of a shot. Hell of a back-up. Hell of a guy to have at your side. A weakness.  
  
Another support collapsed in the heat. Shepard, paragon of humanity. Caught in the crossfire. Literally and one her own team member had started. A weakness, his escape. The flames shot up against the sky.  
  
But Zaeed Massani was not a man who forgot. And if they went to save the workers, Vido would certainly get away. And finding him again later would not be the same, would it? She had promised. Promised what exactly though? To free the refinery of the Blue Suns. Well, that was a done deed.   
  
That left what? The workers, the burning refinery, and Zaeed Massani hellbent on revenge. Shepard stared up at the man on the walkway. What do you want? She closed her eyes. It wasn't that she didn't know. She did. That didn't make it any easier.  
  
“Let's go.” She turned her back, trying to ignore the desperate shouting of the man behind them. It was the hardest thing she had done in her life. In regards to conscience, it beat Akuze by miles. The man's hopeless shouts echoed in her ears long after the door closed between them. The fire of the guns couldn't drown it out and the burning tanks crashing down on them couldn't either.  
  
At least Jacob had the tact not to look at her with question marks over his head or any kind of judgement in his eyes. It wasn't that she agreed with Zaeed. That didn't make things better. Neither did catching up with Vido as he hobbled towards his shuttle. Zaeed shot him in one leg to slow him down even further.  
  
As expected, Vido pleaded and Zaeed didn't care. Calling a shot to the head at point blank 'just business' wasn't holding up as an explanation, much less an excuse. And Shepard was not sure he had done Zaeed a favour, he had certainly not done her one. She was stuck with this mess now and the lives of innocent workers on her hands.  
  
Shepard wished, Zaeed would just shoot Vido and be over with it. This mission was doing her mind no favours. You did this. You decided and now you have to look at the woman who could do this in the mirror for the rest of you life. There was no escape.  
  
But again, Zaeed had a different plan. “Fry, you son of a bitch.”  
  
He popped the heat sink from his gun and tossed it into the growing pool of fuel Vido was sitting in. It went up in a flash, adding the screams of another dying man to the noise in Shepard's head.  
  
She was grateful that he didn't speak to her on their way back to the Normandy. There was enough clamour in her mind without Zaeed actually asking for attention. He didn't say thanks before they parted ways and Shepard didn't want any.  
  
In the silence of her cabin Shepard sat down heavily, trying to process her actions. It wasn't the 'what' of what she had done but the why. And she knew and that didn't make it any better. At least, and that she counted as a blessing, Zaeed hadn't asked. If only that held.


	9. Tell Me

She didn't come by the rest of the day. She didn't come by the following day and went off to Bekenstein with Kasumi without a word. Zaeed wasn't sure what to make of that. Well, admittedly he made a lot of things of it, but since he liked none of them, he tried to ignore them all.  
  
Zorya had been a mistake. Vido was dead and he didn't give a flying fuck about that. Twenty years of his life wasted, literally. He didn't care if Vido lived or died, what occupied him was how the fucking paragon of humanity took being a bad girl so badly.  
  
She shouldn't really. She had done, well, no she had not done worse. A murder here and there for the peace of mind of one of her friends. And those people had deserved death for their deeds even if Shepard would have found it in her heart to give them a second chance. The workers in the refinery had been innocent. Bystanders caught in the cross-hairs of his revenge. And she had let them die.  
  
Why?  
  
Zaeed would have felt a lot better had he been able to ask her. But Shepard had closed in on herself down on Zorya already. She hadn’t wanted to talk. He had been certain she'd get over it. And now she was gone.  
  
It wasn't that the galaxy wasn't better off with Vido dead. On that they both agreed. And she had done what she always did when she cared for a crew member. She had stepped aside and let him do his thing. When he had been ready in turn to curse circumstance and get those workers saved on a single word from her.   
  
But she had gone through with it and now she suffered the consequences. Those were hopefully just being unable to stand the sight of him. It wasn't her fault that-. Zaeed stopped that train of thought. She didn't care for him any more or less than for the other members of her crew. It was the main reason he tried to downplay the murder of the refinery workers. No more than for the others. No more.  
  
When Shepard returned from Bekenstein, she made her rounds as if nothing had happened. Absolutely nothing. Zaeed didn't know what to make of that either. She didn't react visibly when he thanked her for Zorya. She didn't do anything much actually. But she didn't leave either. So he told her stories and watched.  
  
Watched as she went off again, this time taking Garrus and Mordin with her, following a trail of faulty mechs to their origin and blowing up the whole factory. It was almost as if she was postponing something.   
  
“So, are we going to beat about the bush forever?” Zaeed wanted to know. “Can I at least assume you don't want me off your ship?”  
  
“How did you get that idea?” Shepard seemed genuinely surprised.  
  
“Because of the way you acted after out return from Zorya,” he said. “Figured you might want my sorry arse out of your sight after the stunt I pulled.”  
  
Her mouth opened but for a long moment nothing came out of it. “I thought about it but,” she shrugged.  
  
Zaeed waited if she was going to add anything to that. She did not. He wondered if he should press the issue. “I wouldn't blame you if you did.”  
  
Shepard shook her head slightly. “It doesn't matter.”  
  
“Indulge an old mercenary,” he insisted. “Job security does matter at my age.”  
  
“Your job is safe.” She even laughed a little. “No need to worry about that, Zaeed.”  
  
“Well, I'm sure glad to hear that. I was hoping to settle down with that money.”  
  
“Weren't you paid in advance?” Shepard wondered. “Wait, what? You? Settle down? I feel I should call Dr Chakwas.”  
  
“What? Are you surprised?” He pretended to be offended. “Even mercenaries get old. I didn't plan to do this until I drop on the job.”  
  
“In that case you might have chosen the wrong job.” Shepard leant back against her usual crate.   
  
“I might,” he agreed. “Still, I figure we have a better chance than anybody else. We're good. You're good.”  
  
“Hmph.”  
  
“Did you never think about setting down? Quitting the military, getting some dirt under your boots?” It was none of his business, but Zaeed wanted to know. Not that it impacted his own plans, of course.  
  
“I've always been a traveller,” Shepard replied. “A spacer kid and then in the Alliance. I wouldn't know where to start.”  
  
“I will send you a tutorial,” Zaeed promised. “Once I get the hang of it.”  
  
“Somehow I have difficulties imagining you tutoring classes of mercs that want to settle. Do you even know how to use a pin board?”  
  
“I might surprise you. Especially once I start pinning things to it with a rifle.” They were back to banter. Zaeed hoped that meant that Shepard had overcome whatever crisis Zorya had kindled.  
  
And indeed, Shepard did take him along again when they were called to a dormant Collector ship all of a sudden. It felt good to be back in action and know that somebody capable had her back. Not to mention her front and flanks if necessary. After all the Collectors were an advanced race. If they had advanced flame throwers on them, Shepard was fried.   
  
Well, it didn't come to that. It was creepy. First, nothing happened in spades with a side of dead bodies decorating every flat space. And there were enough pods to store half of humanity in them. Zaeed didn't believe the Collectors were aiming for Earth though. It was a heavily defended place. Plus he had just invested in some prime real estate there.  
  
It might be sentimental to return to where he had once lived and tried to build life. But nobody was going to run over Shepard with a car. He'd make sure of that. Not to mention that anybody wanting a piece of her had to get into line behind the Collectors.  
  
Those showed up in strength once they tried to plug EDI into the Collector ship. Fortunately, they did not have flame throwers. Instead they had Scions which blasted their way through cover at will. Not to mention another Praetorian. Zaeed could very well have done without that one. But it was the last big one and they shot through the wave of husks before jumping aboard the shuttle again just fine.  
  
Only she didn't look fine. A trap, and the Illusive Man had known. It was eating away at her. Zaeed wasn't sure he cared either way. Getting led along by employers was nothing new to him and with Cerberus it was more surprising how long it had taken to happen than anything else. He would have given a lot to listen in on that debriefing.  
  
Shepard's announcement that the trap had been a necessary evil was not very convincing either. She didn't look ready to charge head-on into the Illusive Man's next plan of acquiring a Reaper IFF. Considering that they had to board a dead Reaper for that, who could blame her? The last enemy ship she had boarded had turned out to be less than derelict.  
  
“We wouldn't want that one to wake up while we're aboard.” Zaeed crossed his arms and leant back against the bulkhead. “It is difficult to kill a thing you are inside of and survive.”  
  
“You did it with the Verrikan,” Shepard replied. She was sitting on the crate that didn't serve as storage for his knives any longer.  
  
“That was a ship and not alive,” he objected. “Crew doesn't count.”  
  
“The Illusive Man said he had a team there and that they lost contact.” Shepard sighed. “There will be something alive there for certain.”  
  
“Let's hope the Collectors turned them all before we arrive.”  
  
“Why would I hope for that?” She was taken aback. “It's a horrible fate.”  
  
“If they're still there but not answering the calls, they are defectors to Cerberus and will be unhappy to see us,” Zaeed said.   
  
“And you think I can't handle killing people?”  
  
“I wouldn't say it like that,” he replied. “But the more innocent the people, the bigger your scruples. Better to take the easy way out”  
  
“Thank you. I guess.” She didn't look as if she appreciated.   
  
“Shepard, you're a good woman. But there's one thing I don't understand.” Zaeed decided that this moment was as good as any.  
  
“Only one thing?” She smiled. “What would that be?”  
  
“Zorya.”  
  
She didn't reply. For a long time she just looked at him, her heels suspended a few inches from hitting the crate. Finally she lowered them very gently. “I am way not drunk enough to talk about Zorya.” She shook her head.  
  
“If you say so.” Zaeed suspected that Shepard had meant to imply she would never be drunk enough to talk about it. She would find out how wrong she was about that. But some other day. “Getting wasted can be good way to stake out. Had a job once, I think it was on Omega...”  
  
When she left a few stories later, he watched her back. That was, from a certain point of view, his job after all.


	10. Whisky

It should probably have made her suspicious, that the table was empty apart from the surveillance display. It should definitely have made her suspicious that the mercenary was not leaning against the bulkhead in his favourite spot. She saw, but she didn't think. She had only herself to blame.  
  
“Back for more?” Zaeed asked. One of his openings and one that did not get better over time. Shepard hoped to shake the innuendo one day despite all proof of the exact opposite happening. Sometimes she thought he was doing that on purpose.  
  
“What have you got?” She crossed her arms before her.  
  
“You'd be surprised.” Taking a step towards her, he produced a bottle and two glasses. Quadruple distilled Mount Milgrom. Glasses. A question to be answered.” He pointed at the sole chair in front of the table. “Put your arse down there and get comfortable.”  
  
So this was it. She had it coming since Zorya. Shepard had known that stalling would only work so long on the mercenary. Actually getting the whisky was a nice touch. Taking a deep breath, she sat down and watched as Zaeed opened the bottle, poured them each a shot and sat down on the edge of his bunk.  
  
“Cheers.” He drained the shot in one go.  
  
Shepard didn't see a reason to. Firstly this stuff was hard to get in space, fucking expensive on top of that and good. She savoured the scent before taking a first sip, letting the smoky taste burn down her throat. Then the reason why she was having the drink caught up to her and she emptied the glass.  
  
Zaeed topped them up, placing the bottle within easy reach. “That mission takes me back.” Another opening line. “It's not the first time I go back-stabbed, though, but gotta say that this is about taking the cake. Sending you ff into a trap like that. Don't see no reason that Illusive Man couldn't have told you the truth. Don't trust him, Shepard.”  
  
“I don't.” She downed another shot, filling her glass again immediately. Maybe she would get through this without any embarrassing moments. It felt like it, too. Zaeed was waxing nostalgic, telling stories as if this was no different from any other time she had visited. Her head began to feel fuzzy. Just a few more shots and she would be out of this. Good.  
  
“So, Zorya,” Zaeed asked, piercing the happy fog in her mind. “You blew up the whole place.”  
  
“I know.” Shepard looked at her glass which was suspiciously empty.  
  
“Didn't quite notice back there, but the longer I think about it, the less sense it makes.” Zaeed made no move to amend the sorry state of her glass.  
  
"Yeah." He just kept looking at her, expecting an explanation. "It was wrong. We could have saved those people. I knew it then, and I know it now. The scream of that guy when he realised they will all burn as we turn our backs,” she took the bottle to fill up her glass and made it a double. “It haunts me. I wish it never happened.”  
  
Zaeed topped  up his own drink. "Then why did you?"  
  
Here it came. And her effort to lay herself waste before coming to this point rendered moot. Her gaze lingered on his figure, slightly sprawled and somewhat worse for the drink. But his eyes were alert. She couldn't think of a single motivational thing to tell herself. Shepard took another deep breath.   
  
"Because you're more important, that's why. And that's wrong, too, but I'd do it again. Because I want you,” she emptied the glass and reached for the bottle again, “on my team for good."  
  
"Why didn't you just say?" His mismatched eyes bored into her as if that answer was even more important.  
  
"Because I didn't want you to think I was trying to manipulate you into staying. I was afraid you'd just leave if you knew." Her fingers grip the bottle tightly, knuckles going white. "Didn't want you to. Don't want you to. Mean it."  
  
She felt his hand around the bottle over hers. “I think you had enough.”  
  
“I think not.” Shepard looked at him and back to their hands on the bottle. “Because if I have some more, I'll barf half the night but won't remember much in the morning. That sounds like a perfect plan.”  
  
“I have a better one.” Since she didn't let go of the bottle and he didn't let go of her hand when he stood up, Shepard found herself rising from the chair.  
  
And right into his arms as the bottle was taken from her hand with a nonchalant twist. She followed its progress onto the table, ending her cheek against Zaeed's shoulder in the process. Her head was still wondering whether to return the gesture when her hands had already found their way to his shoulders.  
  
“You need to stop worrying, Shepard,” he softly said into her ear. “Goddammit, woman, I won't abandon your sorry do-gooder arse anywhere.”  
  
He sounded like he meant it. Shepard closed her eyes. Felt like he meant it, too. Felt too good, but didn't matter right now. Nothing did. Part of her wished she was sober. Part of her wished he was sober, too. Well, nothing for it but to hang on.  
  
Shepard wasn't sure if she had been about to fall asleep, but being gently pried off Zaeed's armour, startled her.  
  
“And don't you forget it.” He held on to her shoulders for a moment, before letting go completely.  
  
She nodded, the absence of armour to scratch against her skin stark. “Thank you.”  
  
Zaeed reached out, wiping a tear from her face with his thumb. “Don't cry, goddammit, woman. How long do you think I'll live if anybody sees you staggering out of my quarters drunk and weeping?”  
  
Shepard had to laugh despite herself. “Right.”  
  
“I'd be dead before you're over the hangover.” He realised his hand was still resting against her face and retracted it.  
  
“Deplorable waste of resources, not recommended.” She straightened her jumpsuit. “And who'll empty the rest of that bottle with me?”  
  
“You think I'll save it for you?” Zaeed managed to cross his arms before him with only a little fumbling.  
  
“Yes,” Shepard smiled. “Yes, actually I do.”  
  
She fled before the temptation to actually kiss the fucker goodbye became too strong. In her bed she curled up the way the landed, hanging on to that moment of safety in Zaeed's embrace in lieu of the man himself. What a mess.


	11. Hesitancy

Commander Shepard, the goddamned paragon of fucking humanity, would be his undoing. Not because she had killed against everything she believed in to keep him around. Not because she had needed half a bottle of whisky before telling him for fear he might still leave, taking it for manipulation. But because she was hell of a woman and still had clung to him as if letting go was the world's end.  
  
It was a godsend that he was wasted like nobody's business, Shepard had led by excellent example, downing drinks so fast that he had feared she would drop of alcohol poisoning. Goddammit, she was beautiful when drunk. The fire in her eyes scattered, as if falling through a prism and her speech was a tad slower, concentrating on being understandable.  
  
He was definitely done for. That she was going down her own road to ruin didn't really matter. She was young, she'd notice how this was not really the best idea. Having Jacob on board would help, or Garrus. That turian had a thing for her and no mistaking. Come to think of it, Zaeed couldn't think of many crew members who wouldn't get down and dirty with the commander if asked to.  
  
It hurt somewhat to be no exception. It did not help to know she was scared of losing him. And fucking hell, of course he had suspected manipulation. Not of this kind, though. He was ready to empty the scotch on his own. Goddamn the woman. He shouldn't be in this position.  
  
But he was and his gut twisted up in a tight knot thinking about the future. Having her poisoned on Omega had been bad enough. He didn't like to think about it. His commander taking a drink and collapsing. The moment her heart stood still, so had his. And no shield in the galaxy could hide his relief when she was too fraggled to notice how relieved he was when she opened her eyes again. When her breath steadied again, when her heartbeat picked up again.  
  
It was probably the Cerberus engineering that saved her there. And what had she done? Tried to fucking talk about it. If the turian hadn’t taken care of the batarian bartender, Zaeed knew he would have done so himself a line or two later. It was what he had done the last time.   
  
Not that she knew. He didn't talk about his past much and Shepard didn't seem to care. Good enough for him to avoid his personal past and stick to the stories. I might just serve as a last line of defence. If she didn't let it slip. She was so lenient with those she cared for.  
  
Fucking paragon of humanity. And his undoing. It would be a lie to say he wasn't getting attached. Hell, it was a lie. He was. Too damned attached. That he cared because she was his commander was a flimsy excuse that wouldn't hold up to any scrutiny. He was in way over his head and way out of place. And she knew.  
  
The feeling of her cheek under his palm would likely haunt him forever. He better stock up on that whisky if he wanted them to come out of this with their dignity intact.  
  
A worry, she didn't seem to have. There was no trace of their alcoholic escapade on her when she walked back into his room.  
  
“Back for more?” He asked. Which might not have been the best of all ways to word this. Goddammit.  
  
“There's always that, yeah.” She hoisted herself up onto the crate.  
  
“What else is there?” He was wary, though seeing her perched on that crate was mighty fine sight.   
  
“I wanted to thank you.”   
  
“What for?”   
  
“Yesterday.” Her heels bounced off the crate, her hands gripping the edge. “You were kind. You didn't have to.”  
  
Damned right he didn't. But that goddamn woman was a virus and he had it as bad as everybody else. Be the person Commander Shepard knows you can be. Goddammit. “Don't get used to it.”  
  
She smiled, looked at her dangling feet for a moment before turning her eyes back to him. “And you're still here.”  
  
“So? Letting a fully crewed installation blow up against your own convictions and being ready to do it again to keep me around is more than most did. Would do.” He shrugged. “I don't see a problem there.”  
  
“Right. Good.” She pulled her legs up, resting her chin on her knees with her heels on the edge of the crate. Then she turned her head to look at him, putting her cheek on her knees. “Tell me another story.”  
  
“Run out of them,” Zaeed confessed. "Might have been making up some, too.”  
  
Shepard grinned. “I know. It doesn't matter. I like them anyway.”  
  
“Then you're easy to please,” he replied.  
  
There was a spark in her eyes, but she let it slip. He really needed to watch his mouth here. Not that he was alone in that. It was difficult enough to tell as story while watching every word he said. Having her hang on his lips was not helping. And everything could be taken as innuendo if looked at from the right angle.  
  
Her eyes were a surefire sign on when she decided to interpret something he said as reference to the gutter. No, he was definitely not alone on this trip.   
  
“Look Shepard.” She did and her gaze was really disconcerting. Appraising and inviting at the same time. Goddammit, she was his boss. “You realise I meant that metaphorically, right?”  
  
She grinned and straightened on her crate. “I can do bot at the same time.”  
  
“Are you sure you want to do that?” He crossed his arms before him. It was a useless attempt at protection.  
  
Shepard jumped off the crate and planted herself directly in front of him. Zaeed wished he didn't have his arms crossed because that would have given him a few inches of space. Too late now. At least he wouldn't be able to do something stupid now.  
  
“Zaeed Massani, if you think I will forget what you did yesterday, you are gravelly mistaken.” She began poking his chest plate with her index finger. “Your sorry arse belongs to me now.”  
  
“I didn't do anything.” Zaeed wished very much to keep his arse and other body parts out of this.  
  
“Hell you did.” Instead of poking she hooked her hands into his crossed arms. “And don't you dare deny it.”  
  
“I don't think it's a good idea.” He couldn't even take a step backwards. Cornered by that tiny slice of a woman.  
  
“Why?” She didn't relent. “Because I'm your boss?”  
  
“Among other things.”  
  
“Like?”  
  
“This is still a suicide mission, Shepard," he grasped at the next best thing. "There is no need for any of us to come out of it with extra helpings of grief.”  
  
“Better to love and lose than never to have love.” She quipped but let go of his arms. “Also there isn't even a guarantee any of us will make it out.”  
  
Anything was better than to admit he was just scared to lose her. Not that he wasn't afraid of that already. Still there was a small but painful difference between losing a friend a losing a lover. Losing both in one person – Zaeed did not want to handle it.  
  
“You are Commander Shepard,” Zaeed said. “You make the impossible look easy.”  
  
“And you are one old and stubborn mercenary.” She smiled but it looked beat. “But you did promise not to run.”  
  
“I meant it, Shepard, when I said I won't abandon your sorry arse. Wouldn't have even on Zorya if you had gone for the workers.”  
  
Zorya was  haunting him now more than ever. He had been certain that Vido was lost the moment the worker appeared on the walkway. He had been travelling with the fucking paragon of humanity. And if he was honest, Zaeed had not really minded. A realisation that had surprised him. They would go and save those blasted people and he'd get Vido some other day. Shepard would help. That he knew.  
  
He had braced himself for a show when she had closed her eyes, making her decision. Because you didn't show something like that. And then she had just turned her back and walked. He had been almost too stunned to follow, catching up even later than Jacob.  
  
Shepard looked at him, face unreadable, the small scars on her cheek glowing dimly. “Zorya.”  
  
“I was sure Vido would get away.” He took a tentative step in her direction. “But I was alright with it. I would not have abandoned you. Not there. Not anywhere.”  
  
He wished there was more on her face to tell what she was thinking. The victory against Vido had not been as unequivocally satisfying as he had expected. Not that it hadn't felt goddamned good. But there had been that small thing, tiny sliver of regret that she had made a decision against her own convictions and took it so badly.  
  
He was sure it was still nagging at her somewhere. But she didn't say anything. Just stood there, forehead wrinkled in though, staring at him, maybe not even seeing him.  
  
Suddenly she shook the rigour, taking a step towards him, blinking slowly. “Hold me.”  
  
Now that was the one reaction Zaeed had not seen coming. But his body was taking over, readily complying while his mind was still trying to shake its sudden paralysis. Which might be a good state for it to be in, considering the head resting on his shoulder, forehead cradled against the crook of his neck. Safe. That was what she had said. It made her feel safe. He tightened the grip on her shoulder.   
  
“I am sorry.” Her words didn't make sense as they bounced off his skin. Her hand reached up, clutching at his shoulders.   
  
It wasn't his place to enjoy this as much as he did, but he would make the most of it. She let go much too soon which only proved that he was a lost case already. The scent of her hair lingered, driving the point home not too subtly.  
  
Shepard looked better, too. She had obviously gotten something she needed if not what she had wanted. “I expect to see you and your sorry excuse for scotch in my cabin. Soon. There's unfinished business with that bottle.”  
  
“Are you sure that is a good idea?” Zaeed liked it. He wasn't sure if it would be doing either of them any good, but damn. She was set. He might as well cave in right now. And she was right about one thing. There was no knowing if they made it back alive. Which pain would be worse to carry?  
  
“Definitely,” Shepard replied. “At least I have more than one chair.”  
  
“I am sure you would have found a solution.” Zaeed cursed his loose mouth.  
  
But she only laughed. “I would and if you'd prefer to go the direct route, I can be back in a blink.”  
  
She left with a smile and swinging her arse like nobody's business. Hell, no wonder he wanted to keep  away from that if possible. Crotch armour wouldn't save him. Nothing could save him. Zaeed smiled.


	12. The Last Line of Defence

Shepard knew she should probably feel worse for pressuring Zaeed into another drinking spree. But as soon as the Reaper IFF was not only installed but also working, there was nothing between them and their last mission. And if that was all she could get, she'd take it. That merc had to make up his mind. Wavering wildly between blatant innuendo and prim hesitation was driving her mad.  
  
And she knew people. It was one of her talents to know people, how they felt and what they wanted or needed. Zaeed could kid himself all he wanted. She only hoped he'd get over himself before they were both dead. Well, in that case she at least wouldn't gripe about it any more.  
  
And in the meantime the company was appreciated. Zaeed had bolstered the half empty bottle with a second, full one, just in case.   
  
“If you're trying to ply me with alcohol, you're doing a shitty job of it, Massani.” Shepard downed her third drink and refilled. Zaeed had just finished one of his more daring stories which had featured a hanar undercover in a jelly factory which  had almost not ended well for them.  
  
“I'm not.” He glanced at the bottles, one empty, one still untouched. “It's the opposite. Precaution.”  
  
Shepard reached for her glass and drained it. Precaution. The everlasting fuck. Because her conscience would stop her, but to know that so would his. Not that she wasn't tempted anyway by the sight of the dishevelled mercenary sprawled over the couch, glass in one hand, talking about times gone by.   
  
Damn the man.  
  
"I wish you wouldn't."  
  
“Too late now.” He did not sound the least contrite.  
  
“Then why stop?” She held out a hand. “We're not getting any more sober tonight, are we?”  
  
“You'll be the death of me.” Zaeed gave her the second bottle.   
  
“I will be the death of everybody on this ship,” she replied, topping up her glass. “Not that it makes anything any better.”  
  
“We all know what we're in for,” Zaeed said.  
  
“And don't you all deserve better.” Shepard sighed, ogling the bottle because heaven knew what would happen if she looked at Zaeed for too long. He didn't look at her for longer periods either. Shepard smiled.  
  
“Don't deny that you are glad we're here,” Zaeed scolded.  
  
“Oh, happy as a clam and guilty as hell.” She smiled ruefully. “I can decide to get myself killed, but who am I to send others to certain death?”  
  
“You didn't decide shit,” Zaeed said. “We all think this is worth it. You are worth it.”  
  
“But am I?” Shepard got up and started pacing unsteadily. “Am I really? The cause is good, I do what I can. Is that enough? What if my best is not good enough? If I get all of us killed for nothing?”  
  
“Then that's that.”  
  
“That's that?”   
  
“We did all we could and we lost. Sometimes you do everything right and still lose. So what?” Zaeed shrugged.  
  
Shepard flopped down on the foot of her bed. “Yeah. What else can we do?”  
  
“Look at it like that,” Zaeed got up and sat down beside her. “You're the best. Your team is the best. If we don't make it, nobody will. And at least we won't be around to see everything go to hell.”  
  
“Your optimism is contagious.” She laid back, spreading her arms.  
  
“Glad to hear it. You goddamned need some, Shepard.” He slapped a palm down on her leg.   
  
“Right, right.” She sighed and stared up for a while. “Could you do me a favour, Zaeed?”  
  
“I guess so,” he growled.   
  
“You can always claim it's the alcohol talking,” Shepard offered.  
  
“We both know it's not,” he sighed. “That smoke screen went up in flames.”  
  
“Let's keep that way.” She nudged him with her knee.  
  
“So, you were saying?”   
  
“Hm?”  
  
“The favour?” Zaeed reminded her.  
  
“Oh that yes. Would you terribly mind staying?” It should not be so difficult to ask, Shepard thought.  
  
“You won't get rid of me again, Shepard. No worries. Even if you get all of us killed.” He patted her knee.  
  
“No, I mean now.” She sighed. “I don't want to be alone.”  
  
“Are you sure that's a good idea?” He turned to look at her.  
  
“As long as you take the boots off, yeah.” She smiled and holding out a hand she wriggled her fingers in the direction of her feet. “My boots, too.”  
  
“Up with the feet,” Zaeed commanded.  
  
She complied, enjoying the feeling of his hand removing the boots and socks. “Getting cocky, huh?”  
  
“You wish.” He chuckled and pushed her onto the bed by the feet. “Anything else you need off?”  
  
“Time,” Shepard sighed.  
  
“I guess that will have to wait.” He got up to turn the light down before sitting back down again. The foot of the bed sank in under his weight, followed by the muffled clatter of armour pieces being put down on the floor. Finally he laid down on his back on the other side of the bed.  
  
Silence descended slowly. For a while, Shepard just lay, listening to their breathing. It felt good, not to be alone. “So," she laced her fingers behind her head, blinking lazily at the ceiling, “tell me another story?”  
  
“Don't you ever tried of them?” He asked, shifting his weight.  
  
“No,” she smiled. “I like your voice.”  
  
“Fair enough.” There was a pleased tone in his voice. “And this takes me back. Way back actually, too bad your ceiling doesn't  have stars on it.”  
  
“Why would that help?”  
  
“Back on Earth,” Zaeed made a long pause, “when I was still based there. I used to spend half night like this, staring at the stars with my wife.”  
  
“I didn't know you were married.” There were too many things she didn't know about him. Shepard thought of his past as a patchwork of mostly lost bits.  
  
“Yeah, hell of a woman. I don't talk about her much.” Zaeed didn't have to say that he didn't talk about anything private much. “Wit as sharp as her tongue. Good head on her shoulders, too. Quick mind, quick gun.” He fell silent again. “I don't talk about her much.”  
  
Shepard untangled her fingers to reach for his hand between them and gave him a gentle squeeze. “You don't have to, Zaeed.”  
  
He returned the pressure. “Maybe I should,” he said slowly. “Maybe not now.”  
  
“Whenever you're ready. I'll be there.” They fell silent again.   
  
“I watched her die,” Zaeed said into the darkness. “She was run over by a car right in front of my eyes. Hell of a bad way to go.”  
  
“I'm sorry.” Shepard didn't know what else to say.  
  
“Not as sorry as the bastards who did it,” Zaeed growled. “Hired guns, not very good ones either. They had a lot of time to regret what they did before they died.”  
  
“Is that how you became a mercenary?”  
  
“Hell no,” he chuckled sadly. “We were both working that line long before we met. We planned to open our own business together.” He paused. “Settled on Santiago for it after that and you saw how that ended,” he finally continued. “Goddamned mistake if I ever made one. But when she died, lots of my scruples went with her.”  
  
“I don't know what to say.” Shepard turned onto her side, not letting go of his hand.  
  
“Me neither.” Zaeed shrugged. “Alena. That was her name. So,” he added after another long silence, “any star-gazing stories to share yourself?”  
  
“Not really.” Shepard adjusted the arm under her head not sure if he really meant star-gazing or relationships. “I grew up on ships, the stars were always outside the windows. I am more used to bulkheads than landscapes. Didn't really get the fuss about them in Rio.”  
  
“Not sure if I should pity you,” he mused.  
  
“For that?” Shepard chuckled. “Feel free. Anything else, not so much.”  
  
“I wouldn't think of it,” Zaeed growled. “Any pity about the mess we're in goes to myself first.”  
  
“Agreed.” The items in the pockets of her jumpsuit began to dig into her uncomfortably.  
  
“What are you doing?” Zaeed asked when she let go of his hand.  
  
“Getting out of the jumpsuit.”  
  
“And you think of that now because?”  
  
“Been lying on the onmi-tool adjuster,” Shepard admitted. “Can't recommend it. You got rid of all hard edges before lying down, huh?”  
  
“Habit,” Zaeed replied. “If you are safe, sleep comfortable. It doesn't happen too often.”  
  
“You'll always be safe on my ship,” Shepard replied.  
  
“I know.” His hand reached out for hers again. “What about you?”  
  
“I wondered,” she hesitated, moving their hands towards him a little. “About that. I don't know.”  
  
“Well, as long as I'm here, they'll have to go through me first,” Zaeed sighed. “But can you handle feeling safe in your own bed?”  
  
Shepard was about to point out that it wasn't her bed, not really. Just Cerberus gracious loan. But what good would that do? “Right. Good. Thank you.” She curled up against his side, feeling his arm around her shoulder in a protective embrace. Even being sober wouldn't have improved on the evening much.


	13. No Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: smutfest ahead. If you'd rather not read the physical parts, you can easily jump this chapter because there is little else to it. ^,^'

Zaeed Massani woke to the realisation that he was the little spoon.  Falling asleep beside the fucking paragon of humanity in a way that could only be described as perfectly innocent had seemed like an acceptable idea. It would have been so much easier if she hadn't taken off her jumpsuit in a last minute ditch. He blamed the whisky, damned good stuff. Shepard had taste, no question.  
  
Not that he had any plans of leaving her if not explicitly asked to. Justified or not, she was his fucking paragon, too. And now she was clinging to him, her body pressed against his back in a way that made too much space for imagination. Fuck.   
  
Or rather not. Her arm was clamped around his ribs, bent upwards. For that he would be forever grateful. He had no idea how he'd restrain himself with her hand close to his cock. Not that this was much better. And no precautionary whisky in sight. Not to mention he had kind of promised not to do that any more.  
  
He wouldn't have moved for the world, though. It might wake her and he wouldn't. Her breath was caressing his cheek. From the feel of it, she was slowly waking up. Zaeed kept still, wondering if that would grant her a little more rest.  
  
“You still here, Massani?” Her speech was slurred with sleep.  
  
“I'm kinda tied down,” he replied. She adjusted just fine to him turning to his back. Did she have to twine her leg around his like that, though? Her hand found the buttons of his shirt and began playing with them.   
  
“Didn't think you were the type for that.” There was mischief in her voice. Her hand was restless on his chest and Zaeed was grateful for the shirt separating his skin from hers. Heaven knew what he would already be doing otherwise. His own hand was taking the hint, moving up her back, find a sensitive spot at her neck.  
  
He felt her breath stutter for a second. Then her fingers found their way between the buttons of his shirt, fingertips tickling over his chest ever so gently. This would be his undoing. If he didn't act, he would find himself fucking goddamn Shepard paragon of humanity.  
  
His free hand closed around her investigative fingers, pulling them out of the button tab again. “Shepard.”  
  
Her eyes rested heavily on him. It would take a bigger fool than him to reject a woman like that trying to have her way with him. And goddammit if he hadn’t thought about it. Repeatedly. Longingly.  
  
He should have left. Should have broken the stars in those eyes to shatters and went to his own quarters rather than risking this. Too late now. Zaeed raised her hand to his lips, placing a kiss on her palm. Her eyes closed with a deep sigh when he placed his lips against her wrist and he could feel her whole body press against him. Still when she looked at him again, they were full of fear. Not fear of what was about to happen. Not fear of the consequences or aftermath.  
  
It was the fear of a person afraid to have their heart broken. Zaeed's hand tightened around her neck involuntarily, bending her head back a little to create a straight line of sight between them. “Shepard, Shep.” He couldn't get over the intensity of her eyes. “I do love you.”  
  
There was no discernible reaction. Zaeed gently put her hand down on his chest again. It wasn't what he had expected, but goddammit, telling her that he loved her in explicit words was as sexy as it got.  
  
But then she nodded slowly, bringing her face too close to his for conscious though. His mouth brushed against those irresistible lips. For a moment their mouths froze like that, barely touching, the possibility hanging in the air like the scent of rain. Then he lifted his head, the fracture of an inch and their lips met, touching for real. He caught the breath escaping her, followed by her tongue and the rest of her body crashing into him like breakwater.  
  
It didn't take much to move her on top of him, her weight pushing down gently against him, his hands free to follow her spine, down the curve of the small of her back, up her arse again. And goddammit, he was hard even before he had started scoping out her body.  
  
No, he would not get out of this one if she had anything to say about it. Capturing his lower lip between her teeth Shepard mapped out a path along his scars and down from his brow to his throat. The Blue Suns tattoo obviously beckoned like a bull's eye for attention. His hands tightened on her skin as she hit centre with that.  
  
Shepard allowed him to pull up her head again, sinking her teeth into another kiss as if her life depended on it. It was all he could do not to take her up on that and give them enough space to breathe. But it was a close call. Her hands returned to the buttons of his shirt, this time making short work of them. Her lips followed, trailing down slowly.  
  
He was vaguely aware of her lips taking the scenic route down his multitude of scars, but it was difficult to concentrate on that with her hands scouting out other sensitive spots along the line, not to mention making short work of inconveniently placed clothing.  
  
The further down she moved, the more difficult it was to hold on to anything of her. He managed to unhook her bra, though, feeling the gentle jiggle of her breasts against his skin. Her fingers intertwined with his as she took her second approach down the happy trail. Shepard definitely knew what she wanted and how to get it.  
  
Unhindered this time, her mouth went down all the way, stopping shortly at the root, grazing it gently. Zaeed wished he hadn’t surrender the control of his hands to her. Not that it mattered much. His groan was cut short by a sharp intake of air when her lips settled on his tip, pressing down slowly. Her tongue slipped under his skin, trailing the crevice around it.  
  
This would end, well not badly but way too soon. The heat of her mouth coaxing his erection was to get lost in. It took Zaeed longer than he desired to find his way out of the deluge of hard desire. Dislodging Shepard was almost painful in it resulting lack of suction. Her skin burned under his fingers as he pulled her back up, her now hard nipples leaving a tingling as they moved against him.   
  
But they were the only unyielding thing about her. Zaeed had no resistance as he gently turned her onto her back, cradling her face in one hand, propping himself up with the other. She was absolutely stunning. Her skin was flushed, her eyes dazed and lips slightly open, exuding desire from every pore. He got too caught up in the sight of her.  
  
It took her hand running down his chest to bring him back. She was skirting his crotch, her fingers teasing. But this could be so much more and Zaeed was determined to have it all. He bent down, kissing her lips softly and following the line of her neck. His hand went scouting ahead, down the length of her side, over the curve of her hip and belly, before coming to a halt on her breast.  
  
Her nipple was hard already, a perfect centre of attention for his hand while his lips slowly trailed towards it. In the meantime, Shepard's hand had taken possession of his back, urgently pushing at him. Fingernails dug into his skin when his slips finally closed over her breast, slipping the nipple through his teeth as he sucked on it.  
  
Zaeed felt her body arch up against him in an irresistible invitation to push a hand under it. He let it roam up to her shoulders and down to the small of her back, taking advantage of her raised hips to remove her pants. Finally he rested his palm against the heat between her legs, cupping it gently while eating up her moans along with her breast.  
  
“Zaeed.” Her vice was breathless as he climbed between her legs, feeling the heat pressing against his own desire.  
  
“At your service.” He was far from down. Running his hands up and down her sides with restless interludes on her breasts and butt as his mouth mirrored the rout hers had taken on his body. Shepard had less scars, making the descent much faster but also much bumpier as she arched into him time and again.  
him time and again.  
  
He cradled her hips in both hands when he reached her mons, caressing it gently before setting down right where her labia met. His tongue descended slowly between her lips, drawing it out to her moan. When she gasped, he acknowledged her clit with a few soft stubs before exploring the rest of her with long laps.  
  
She tasted tangy, like liquid fire, spiced with groans as he returned his attention to her nub. Her hands were clutching at the back of his head urgently and Zaeed broke his steady caress to dip his tongue deep into her, tasting the mounting arousal. Her hips pushed against him hard in the rhythm of his own throbbing desire. His tongue leapt back against her clit, pressing against it while he reeled in the reactions of her body and his own.  
  
The fucking paragon of humanity. Fucking the paragon of humanity. She was his undoing but so be it. He was painfully aware of his erection dragging against her skin as he finally moved up again. Still he couldn't pass by her erect nipples, devouring them with her hands clasped around his ass, pulling at him hard with a clear intention.  
  
It didn't matter if he still recognised his name in the growling moan when he finally slipped into her. Her gentle warmth was as comforting as arousing, closing in on him from all sides. Shepard drew in a sharp breath when he reached the end of his motion and began to retract, clutching at his hair.  
  
He leant down, dragging her into another kiss. The taste of their intertwined lips merging with the motion of her eager around his slow thrusts. Zaeed savoured each moment, dragging it out as long as possible without coming to a standstill.  
  
But Shepard had her own desires, pushing up against him hard her inside sucked at him as hard as her lips on his mouth. Her hands wavered between holding on to his shoulders and clutching his ass with her whole body shivering against his with every move.  
  
Zaeed increased his pace a little, ending each thrust with a small dip deep against her before retracting. Her body followed his up, tantalising her with his tip on the verge of entering before pushing down again and again.  
  
Her whole body tightened around him, pulling him down into her embrace of shuddering breaths and broken words. He joined his own words to hers, mouth to ear and ear to mouth in the heaving surges of their movements.  
  
Desire rose behind each stroke, pressing against the dams of his self-control with each thrust burying deep into his mind and into body as they pushed on, pressing ahead against each other, skin clinging to skin, separated but by a layer of sweat. Her hands captured his face, the grip tightening with each foray forward.   
  
He gazed at her, lending his push to her pull, pressing the arched body against the mattress as gently as possible. He had all the time in the world and wanted nothing more than to hold on to her, cradle her close while he moved, gently, slowly, and preferably forever.  
  
The feeling of her body pressed against his in tight shivers was unrivalled. She crashed against him waves, demanding and giving at the same time, showering him with desire that demanded satisfaction and drove him to increase his own pace. Zaeed buried his face against her neck, feeling each thrust echoed along their whole bodies.  
  
Then came a moment of perfect tension. Shepard was still like a butterfly frozen in time just to unleash her storm of release around another of his thrusts, tugging at him everywhere at once. Her inside tightened around him in the waves of her orgasm even as she breathed his name in shattered fragments into his rhythm.  
  
The pull of her squeezing at him, unconsciously in her ecstasy, battering him into his own coming. With a moan, Zaeed pushed his climax deeply into her, each twist and turn aggrandised in the burst of satisfaction as their bodies spun in delirious release.  
  
Sinking down over her shuddering body he honed in on another kiss, deep and satisfied. Her arms wrapped around him holding him close still. Not that he felt like going anywhere any time soon.  
  
Not that they had a choice. The Collectors were not dallying and the estimate on how long it would take to integrate the Reaper IFF into their systems had been over long ago. This was just a short respite. He breathed in the scent of her hair and sweat.  
  
“I don't feel like getting up and fighting anything,” she mumbled into his skin. Her hands trailing lazily along his back.  
  
“That's fine,” he replied. “We just stay like this until somebody finds us.”  
  
Her chuckle ran through his whole body. “Yes, that will look real good.”  
  
“You have seen my arse, right?” Zaeed teased.   
  
“Not yet.” She unearthed herself and sat up to look at the mentioned body part. “Yes, indeed. Looking good.”  
  
The smile on her face was radiant. Zaeed didn't like the idea of having it tarnished by incoming Collectors. Or rather going out to them. He ran his fingers along her cheek. “What about I hide in your shower while you see if the galaxy managed to survive without you for a night?”  
  
“And then we swap only you strut out of here like nobody's business?”  
  
“That's the pan.” What he had planned as a sweet little kiss turned into a drawn-out smoochfest under Shepard’s involvement. Zaeed didn't mind. The only thing able to put fear in his heart now was leaving her alone during the suicide mission. If somebody had to go on with grief in their heart, it better be him.


	14. Suicide of the Body

Shepard straightened her jumpsuit for no other reason that it took time. Staring at the door before her she sighed. Of course he had left much too soon, the last kiss lingering on her lips even after she had taken a long shower.  
  
She didn't ask herself what she had done half as much as she had expected. Because it was pretty clear. She had fallen for one of her crew and since the feel was reciprocated, had gotten laid like nobody's business. The thought of Zaeed's hands still made her skin tingle.   
  
And she had felt good despite everything when she had stepped into the CIC, picked the next small mission on the map. It didn't feel right to go far with the Reaper IFF so close to implementation. Since there were many test runs and simulations to be done that would keep EDI busy with their navigation they took a shuttle.  
  
Not a big thing, just a short landfall to investigate what was making noise down there. They never got that far. As soon as they had set foot down on the planet, EDI had called them back. Her calm voice had not meshed well with the information that the Collectors had attacked and taken almost the whole crew prisoner.  
  
Almost. They had gotten everybody but Joker who didn't take t too well. At least the IFF was fully integrated and they enabled them to go through the Omega 4 Relay. So that was what they were doing. Shepard closed her eyes. Two hours until the end of the world. She took a step into Zaeed's room, stopping out of the knives flight path. She counted three of them whistling by.  
  
She watched Zaeed put down the remaining knives. “If you have come for more stores, I am all out.”  
  
Shepard smiled. “Thank you, but actually I was thinking of something else.”  
  
“Such as?”  
  
She leant against the crate, not even tempted to make space to sit down. He looked mighty fine from where she stood. “Something like a three day hug.”  
  
He raised a brow.  
  
“I know, I know.” She sighed.   
  
“You're completely right,” Zaeed agreed. “It will never work standing up. But there is a remedy for that.”   
  
Before she could reply he had swept her off her feet and carried her towards his bunk. It was a tiny affair with just enough space for one. That meant she ended up wedged in between the bulkhead and half on top of Zaeed. A surprisingly comfortable arrangement, especially with his arms around her. Two hour hug. She closed her eyes. “Thank you.”  
  
“I don't have much to do myself, Shep.” His hand ran through her hair. “This is where we wait.”  
  
Shepard inhaled, detergents and oils for armour mixing with his scent. “Tell me about that place you bought.”  
  
He rumbled. “Not much to say. Premium real estate in Russell, hillside situation with access to a private beach, well I say private. It's just a little out of the way.”  
  
“Sounds like a good place to retire to.” She rubbed her cheek against his chest. Maybe retiring wasn't the worst of all ideas once this was over. If it was ever over. Because what would come after the Collectors? The Reapers. And after the reapers? Somebody had to rebuild the galaxy. Where did you stop?  
  
“I am looking forward to leaving Cerberus,” she finally said. “One way or the other.”  
  
“They didn't manage to win you over?”  
  
“I thought you didn't care?”  
  
“I don't. But you are evading my question.” His hold tightened.  
  
“You know about Akuze, don't you.” Shepard tried to curl up against him.  
  
“As much as anybody,” Zaeed replied.  
  
“My whole unit wiped out, or so I thought. Me the only survivor. I knew those people. I,” She broke off. “What people don't know is that it wasn't an accident. A group of scientist were observing the Thresher Maw, experimenting, luring people there. They found a survivor of my team, Toombs.”  
  
“I assume they didn't hand him over to the next hospital,” Zaeed said softly.  
  
“No, no they didn't. They kept Toombs, observed him as well, experimented on him. I met him years later. It was, I couldn't. He was in very bad shape. And the scientists? Not even apologetic. For science. For the greater good. Do you want to guess who they worked for.”  
  
“Cerberus.” He cupped her head gently.  
  
“Cerberus,” Shepard echoed. “They also killed Rear Admiral Kahoku. He was a good man, up to them after losing a team to another Thresher Maw. I couldn't save him. Found him dead in one of their laboratories. Zaeed,” her fingers gripped him tightly, “Cerberus has done more wrong than right. And yet here I am. A bloody terrorist.”  
  
“Yes, here you are. But not for very much longer. And never a terrorist. I have watched you, woman, you're a bloody nuisance of a model upstanding citizen.” He chuckled. “I would like to see the Illusive Man's face when you waltz out right under his nose with the whole Normandy.”  
  
“That would be nice,” Shepard sighed and fell silent. She didn't want to worry about being a terrorist with a terrorist organisation. She would stop the Collectors. And then she'd follow that lead Admiral Hackett had sent and prove the Reapers were a threat the Alliance had to take seriously. Maybe that would make a return easier.  
  
“The difference between terrorism and war is that the latter is sanctioned by the government.” She fell silent listening to his heartbeat and breath. Shepard hadn't noticed drifting off until she was startled by Zaeed shifting his weight.   
  
“I'm afraid we won't make it to three days,” he caressed her neck. “But if you prefer to have the briefing with the Illusive Man like this, just tell me.”  
  
She chuckled. “You're right. Maybe some other time. And I see no reason to have this spoilt my my elusive annoyance.” She propped herself up looking at the scars assembling his face. Before she knew a finger was trailing the lines lazily.  
  
He captured it, returning it to her but not without placing a kiss on its finger tip first. “You better go and suit up then.” He smiled. “In your best armour because your arse is still needed here alive afterwards.”  
  
Shepard bent down brushing her lips against his. She didn't dare more than breathe a kiss onto his mouth. Anything else would either lead to embarrassing delays or heartache. She had no time for either right now. “I'll do my best. And You do like the shiny red set, so we're good. We are good, aren't we?”  
  
“We are.” He pushed her off gently. “We won't be for much longer if you don't get going, though.”  
  
Her fingers trailed down his arm as she slowly moved away, up over his wrist, the curve of his palm, along the middle finger until they hit empty air. It was cold and hard as ice. Shepard forced a smile nevertheless.  
  
“I'd say I'll see you on the other side, but I actually expect you for the briefing before we hit. This is going to be an all-hands-on-deck operation.” She had crossed the lonely distance to his door before he could answer and fled to the elevator. Time to suit up indeed. Time to save the galaxy.  
  
That was an enterprise that turned out more difficult than expected and she had expected a lot. The Illusive Man was less than helpful in the last briefing. She would be happy to turn her back on him. The longer she worked with him, the creepier it felt. As if he was slowly going off the rocker but nobody could actually pin that down anywhere.  
  
The passage through the Omega 4 Relay was suspiciously smooth. It also ended directly in a he field of debris that would have finished them off if Joker and EDI hadn't worked together perfectly. Not to mention that some of the Normandy's upgrades were actually worth their weight in gold. Even as things turned out, they set down in a battered ship that needed repairs before being able to fly again.  
  
Joker and EDI would look into that while the rest of them, she looked around at her team. Ready and willing. They had made peace with their respective makers and though none of them wanted to die, each accepted the possibility. Her eyes fell on Zaeed. She had a lot to live for. Again. But to do that, she had to be the person she could face in the mirror each morning.  
  
“Tali, you will go through the heat vents.”   
  
“Acknowledged.”  
  
Each wrong decision could cost a life and that would be on her. Sometimes you lost even if you did everything right and that she had to live with. But losing because of bad decisions, that would be hard to live down. “Garrus, you lead the second team.”  
  
She could see Miranda bristle. But Garrus was one of her oldest friends. She trusted him. And the only true Cerberus members were Miranda and Jacob. There was no room for resentment and most of the other team members had had their own run-ins with the group before.  
  
She chose Samara as the third member of her team, Zaeed being the obvious one. It was a wise decision. Samara had the strongest biotics and bolstered that aspect of the team nicely. There were enough long drops to dispose Collectors in. Some of them had wings and felt even more creepily like bugs.   
  
It was gruelling. Tali didn't improve things by complaining about being fried in the vent. It may have been an attempt at lightness. Shepard was in no state to tell. The further they went into the base, the smaller their chances to get out again were. When the door closed behind Garrus' team she was ready to implode.  
  
But it was just the beginning. They had found the colonists from Horizon. But too late. The last of them were liquefied right before their eyes, conscious and screaming. The frenzy to get the pods with her crew open was palpable. As was the relief once they were crumpled up on the floor, taking a moment to regain their breath.  
  
“We will never make it on our own.” Chakwas was looking at the crew, the stronger ones steadying those less steady on their feet.  
  
“I'll send somebody to escort you.” Shepard's eyes flitted to Zaeed. The sheer temptation was overwhelming. But he caught her eye, held it and shook his head almost imperceptibly. He would not hear of it. But it was not his choice. She was relieved and desperate as they set off again.


	15. Suicide of the Soul

Zaeed hated himself for leaving but how could he have said no? The sheer amount of fear and guilt in her eyes would have swayed stone. And they both knew he was not stone, not even close.   
  
“This is important, Zaeed,” she had said taking him aside. "They are still weak and need help. And you're a damn fine fighter. Keep my crew safe.”  
  
What she hadn't was that it was a suicide mission. That she didn't expect any of them  to be back. That this way she could go believing that he at least was safe. That he had made it.  
  
“I'll have Legion and Tali for any tech they throw at us and Grunt, Jacob and Garrus will muscle everything out of our way.” She had taken his face between her hands. “And I have me. Who can hope to stop me?”  
  
Goddammit, if she wasn't too right about that. Unstoppable especially with impossible missions. Zaeed had leant into a hard kiss. “Just make sure you get your sorry arse back aboard the Normandy. It's still needed.”  
  
“Or what?” She smiled, bit he could see the effort behind it.   
  
“Or else.” He put his hands over hers. “Don't make me come and drag you out.”  
  
“I won't.” She had pressed he lips against his again, eyes clamped shut. And then she was gone. Leaving him to protect what was dear to her, including himself, maybe foremost himself.  
  
That didn't make it easier. That it was what he had somewhat planned didn't make it easier. Yes, he would goddamned go on. If it made her happy to cling to that thought as she risked her life. Goddammit. He wished to turn on his heels and return to the fray. But he couldn't. Shepard had been right about the state the crew was in. They needed a bodyguard.  
  
Two birds with one stone. Her crew safe, him safe. Resistance on their way back was minimal. His gut churned thinking how everything else was being thrown at Shepard. Bunt once aboard there was no real use in trying to get back. Shepard knew what she was doing. That didn't make it any better either.  
  
Zaeed holed up in his quarter, throwing knives until EDI told him to either stop or use a different place because the wall was staring to get actually perforated. He turned to another spot on the bulkhead. Not that it helped. There was too much energy pent up in him to be vented like that.  
  
Every other moment his thoughts returned to the unpleasant subject of Shepard surrounded by enemies in the middle of the Collector's base. And him not there. He kicked one of the crates as he paced, slammed the button of the trash compactor and watched it compress and eject a load. It didn't help.   
  
He shouldn't feel so helpless. It was eating away at him. This was, from a purely mercenary perspective, the best outcome. Exactly what he had hoped for when he had embarked on this ridiculous mission. His property on Earth beckoned. And yet here he was in a relentless unrest with no way out. Zaeed stopped himself short of actually hitting the bulkhead with a fist.   
  
But forcing himself to be quiet, not to move around, not to curse under his breath did not help either. He switched from one to the other, counting the seconds in a useless attempt to occupy his mind. The worst bit was not to know. Being able only to wait. He could not rage or mourn. There was no reason to rejoice in relief.   
  
Time crept by on a million limping legs, dragging deep grooves into him. Still, he was doing what had to be done. Staying safe. Giving hope to the fucking, bloody paragon of humanity who he'd give anything to save. And could not. Because even if he was there now, if it was his life or hers, he could not.  
  
He had looked into those eyes and they had demanded that last mercy. Zaeed wasn't sure he would have been able to oblige if it had come to it. Shepard was wise in her own ways.  
  
Since he found himself pacing again, he decided to do that where there was more space. The CIC was the obvious choice with the shuttle bay that devastated. Joker closed the door to the cockpit after Zaeed had come past a few times. He didn't blame him.  
  
The moment the Normandy began to move, Zaeed felt his strain jump even worse than the crippled engines. Good or bad, certainty was close. And if he had ever been in need of release it was now. They picked up most of the team from a deluge of bodies, covered in blood and determination.  
  
He could see his own fear mirrored in all eyes to some extent. What about Shepard? Was she still alive? Was she dead? Had she ordered the pick up and if so why? Zaeed noticed that Grunt and Tali were also missing. His girl had taken extra brains and brawns with her, ready to face anything. Because who could stop her? Nobody that was who. That was what he had to hold on to.  
  
The Normandy tilted in a tight curve. Joker's explanation was barely audible over the static of the intercom. They were going to pick up Shepard. It was going to be a tough ride. Everybody better hold on to something.  
  
Zaeed held on to his faith, forcing his way to the airlock. If Shepard was on her way back, he would sure be there to give her a hand in case of need. The Normandy swayed under his feet as Joker put her through moves a ship that size was not meant to do.  
  
When the airlock opened, he could already see the group approaching in a sprint. Grunt was leading, trampling anything his shotgun didn't take out underfoot. He took the jump to the Normandy with surprising ease for his size. Zaeed felt the impact through the floor ship's floor.   
  
Tali followed, making the jump easily but behind her the ground caved in, dropping a segment into the emptiness below and leaving Shepard with a much bigger gap to bridge. As far as Zaeed could tell, she was fine, her rifle spitting bullets at her pursuers as she ran.   
  
Grunt and Tali picked up the cover when Shepard turned to jump. It was a long distance, but she made an incredible leap. Almost made it. Almost.  
  
Zaeed was down on his knees unthinking, taking hold of her wrist as she hung from the side of the ship. Joker veered off abruptly, shaking them up well. But Zaeed didn't let go. They were alive, both of them and whatever happened net, would happen to them together. Even if that was being flung into space by their own pilot.  
  
The Normandy straightened out again. Zaeed started to pull Shepard in. He didn't stop until her boots were firmly in the ship and the rest of her cradled against him. The tension drained out of him like water flowing down a pole. “Don't do that again.”  
  
She shook her head against his chest. The scratching of armour on armour was oddly comforting. “No.”  
  
“Good.” Zaeed returned the squeeze of her embrace. “Because next time you want to save my life by running into danger on your own, you will have to tie me down.”  
  
“Don't give me ideas.” Shepard leant back, drinking in his face. After a short smile, she leant back against him. “On the other hand, do. Because I'll return to the Alliance now. And who knows what will happen then.”  
  
“I can't promise anything,” He replied, finally letting go again. “I am sure they are not the best place for a long-standing mercenary. But we will work it out.”  
  
Shepard smiled, taking his hand and walking off. “That we will. And I still have Admiral Hackett's favour to fulfil.”  
  
“Another one I have to sit out?”   
  
“It's supposed to be low-key, so yeah.”  
  
Zaeed stopped and pulled her back against him. “You will be the end of me.”  
  
“But you will be there.”  
  
“Yeah, goddammit.” He felt her hands creep up over his shoulders again. It was not what he had joined this for. But it was more than worth it, even if it somewhat did ruin his reputation. Be the person Shepard knows you can be. Goddamned right he would.


End file.
